Sophia sat up in bed, her heart pounding, skin sweating, breaths coming out in quick gasps.

A moment later, she felt Dean's hand on her back, rubbing in comforting circles, helping her bring her adrenalin levels back down to normal.

She flopped back down on the bed, staring at the ceiling, as she tried to make the dream fade out of her brain. They were always similar, she was in some empty, black space and couldn't move at all, sometimes restrained, sometimes for no reason at all.

Her hand curled around Dean's as he picked it up, lacing her fingers with hers, and she opened her eyes to find him looking down at her, a worried expression on his face. "You okay?"

Sophia couldn't muster a smile, but she nodded. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

Straining her head, she saw that it was just before seven. She let out a huff. She had been hoping to get more rest tonight, but there wasn't any point in going back to sleep. They had a flight to catch.

"Breakfast?"

Sophia nodded. "Last room service. Better make it count."

They were both intimately familiar with all of the options on the Four Seasons room service menu, and while it was all incredible, they both had favorites. Dean made the call as Sophia slowly sat up, the familiar twinge in her side the constant reminder of everything she went through. But it bothered her less, now. They were going home.

"You sure you're okay with the plane?" Dean asked her for the umpteenth time after he finished on the phone with room service. "It's not exactly a short flight."

And for the umpteenth time, Sophia pursed her lips and rolled her eyes. "Dean. I will be fine."

Her injury tended to stiffen up if she stayed sitting in one position for an extended period of time, and if she went too long, that extended to the entire side of her body. But the discomfort was worth finally being able to go back to L.A.

That wasn't to say she wasn't nervous. She and Dean had managed to get to a good place all things considered, but he was one on a very long list of people she had to make amends with. At times, the task felt impossibly daunting.

"Are you worrying about my mom again?"

Sophia paused with her fork raised halfway up to her mouth. He really could read her like a book. "I'm worrying about everyone," she admitted. "Your mom, my friends, your friends." She took a breath. "Be honest. Do you think everyone will actually support us jumping back into our relationship so soon?"

Dean regarded her quietly as he worked the question over in his brain. "I think they'll be wary," he finally said. "Especially my friends, and my mom. They don't know all that's happened, all that we've discussed, all that we've agreed to when it comes to making sure this will work. They all saw how torn up I was after you left, but they had no idea how torn up you were to leave. It might take time, but they'll get on board. I promise."

For all intents and purposes, what he just described was probably the best that Sophia could have ever hoped for.

"Soph, are you worried that we're going to get home and someone, whether it's my mom or Alicia or someone else at the firehouse, is going to try to convince me that it's a bad idea to be with you? And that I might be convinced?"

After visiting the Feds, they had agreed that any doubt, any insecurity either of them was having, would be spoken. They could ask any question and all answers would have to be honest, no matter how brutal they might feel.

Slowly, Sophia nodded.

Dean didn't seem surprised, but he did frown. "I was worried about that," he admitted. "But I don't think you should worry about them trying to talk me out of this. They know how much you mean to me, how much I love you. They all encouraged me to come here and to stay here once I found you. They're the ones who text me every day asking how you are. They might be wary, Sophia, but my mom and the firehouse are also the ones who knew what I was going home to do the day you left."

Sophia's brow furrowed slightly. He had never let on that the day she left was supposed to be anything special. "What do you mean? What were you coming home to do?"

Dean sighed and got off the bed, grabbing both of their plates with him. "Technically, I didn't leave this part out of my story, because all of this was going on before I got home and talked to you." He went to his mostly packed bagged and unzipped it, digging around for something. "But everyone at the firehouse was giving me a hard time, in the best way possible, during my shift that day."

Dean came back to the bed, sitting across from her, something clasped in his hand. "It's why I switched shifts," he explained. He uncurled his hand. "So I could propose."

Sophia temporarily forgot how to breathe as she stared at the small, burgundy-colored box that lay in Dean's palm. Seconds stretched between them in full silence as Sophia continued to stare, any ability to form words forgotten.

Finally, she met his eyes. "You were going to propose?" she said, her voice nothing but a whisper.

Instead of answering, he just opened the box, and Sophia's eyes were drawn back down. Her hand covered her open mouth as she saw the silver ring, a shining, white pearl set in twisting metal vines. Out of all the rings she had sent Dean, this one had been her favorite.

"You're it for me," Dean said simply. "And we should have had all of this time. We should have had the past several months to figure out the next chapter in our lives, but that was stolen from us. And I really, really don't want to waste any more time. I'm sure. I'm completely sure. Everyone else might not be, but I am."

Sophia's eyes went back to him. He was so calm, so steady, with so much love in his eyes as he looked at her. Once again, he had rendered her speechless.

"So I'm asking you today, Sophia, if you'll marry me."

A proposal hadn't even been in the realm of possible things that could have happened today. But here he was, just as open with his feelings and desires as he was the day they went on their very first date.

"I don't need an answer," Dean continued. "I'm not expecting an answer. I went back and forth as to whether I should ask, I don't want you to make a decision that you're not ready to make. But whenever you are ready, Sophia, the question stands."

Slowly, Sophia's hand fell from where it had remained frozen on her face, her eyes brimming with tears. "I've wanted to marry you for a really long time," she finally said. "So I don't need time to come up with an answer. I don't need time to become ready to make that decision, because I made that decision a long time ago."

Now it was Dean's turn to be speechless. "Soph, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying yes, Dean. I want to marry you. I will marry you."

He stared at her in stunned silence, and then launched himself across the bed at her, covering her mouth with his, the ring box still clenched in his hand. "Shit, sorry," he said, taking his weight off of her a moment later, his concerned eyes going to her side.

But Sophia just pulled him back to her, relishing the fact that she was kissing her fiancé. Her fiancé. Even as she kissed him, a giddy smile came up on her face at that word. It would take some getting used to.

"Soph, are you going to let me actually put the ring on you?"

Gasping for air, Sophia let go of him, sitting up and holding out her hand. Her fingers were shaky, and so were Dean's, but he easily slid the ring on, his hand lingering on hers as they both stared at it.

"This doesn't mean I'm not still committed to doing what we talked about," Dean said firmly. "I want this to work. I want it to work so bad, and I'm willing to put in that work, no matter what form it takes."

"Me too." Sophia wrapped her arms around his neck, running her finger over the smooth edge of the pearl that now adorned her finger. "We're going to get through this, aren't we?"

Dean's face lit up. "I know we are, baby. And everything's going to be fine. Everything is going to be absolutely amazing."